A Love Worth Fighting For
by AnEnduringHope
Summary: Spencer's face the night she'd confronted him in her kitchen would forever be carved into his memory. A part of him had died watching the warmth of her acceptance turn to accusation. He'd been forced to let her believe the worst. So he'd run. But it didn't help, because every time he closed his eyes he saw her standing there trembling with the shock of betrayal. It haunted him.


**All usual disclaimers apply. I didn't build the Pretty Little Liars sandbox, I just enjoy playing in it.**

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Toby stood, grunting as he stretched the kinks out of his neck. He'd been hunched over his desk for the last three hours, and his muscles informed him vehemently that he'd been in the same position for too long. He'd gotten a lot done, though. He glanced down at the blueprints he'd drawn up and smiled a little to himself at the progress. There hadn't been much time for that lately, and he'd missed it. It was cathartic in a way, taking the designs in his head and watching them take shape on paper. Knowing he'd created something.

Spencer didn't budge when he went into the kitchen to make himself a drink. She'd parked herself on his couch hours ago and hadn't moved since. She was surrounded by a sea of textbooks, notebooks, flashcards, pens, pencils and highlighters. An intense look of concentration was etched onto her face.

He was under strict instructions not to disturb her. She needed to concentrate. Her grades had slipped from her usual stellar performance, and she needed to get back on top of things, she'd said. She was taking back control of her life.

Spencer was slowly getting better. The nightmares were fewer and further between, and when they did come, they seemed to be gradually losing their intensity. Her color was better, her eyes had lost the dark bruise-like circles beneath them. And she was filling back out so that her ribs and hipbones weren't so prominent as they had been. A little more every day, she was healing.

She'd been spending most of her free time at the loft with him over the last several weeks. With her parents so rarely home, he didn't trust her safety at her house with Melissa dropping in and out. He'd never really trusted Melissa, but especially not now after the conversation Emily had overheard outside his parents' house. He didn't trust Spencer's sister any more than he trusted his own.

Spencer had actually confessed to him that being in that house by herself made her nervous sometimes. He could tell that wasn't an easy admission to make. She didn't own up to fear very often. She hadn't needed to say anything more for him to have an extra key to the loft made for her. He'd told her that she was welcome there as much as she liked, whether he was there or not. He felt better when Spencer was close by anyway. He could breathe easier when he could see with his own eyes that she was safe.

It spoke volumes to how much she loved him that she felt safer with him than in her own home with her own flesh and blood. After everything that had happened, she still felt safest with him. He'd promised himself over and over that he'd never do anything to compromise that trust again.

He didn't really have any family to speak of. Not anymore. He'd all but lost his lost his father when his mom died. He'd just never been the same again. And he'd never really considered Jenna and his step-mother _family_. In a way, Spencer was all that he had. And it was much the same for her, as strained as her relationships were with her own family. There really wasn't anyone in her family she could consistently count on to be there for her.

His eyes fell on the Scrabble board she'd gotten him for their anniversary. As it did every time he saw it, his eyes went to the inscription on the side, even though he had it memorized – more than memorized, it was permanently engraved onto his brain. _For Toby. My safe place to land. Always your girl. Spencer._ Seeing that was like a swift kick to the gut. The weight of his guilt knocked the air right out of his lungs.

For as long as he lived, the image of Spencer's face the night she'd confronted him in her kitchen would be carved into his memory. She'd tried so hard to keep her expression from revealing anything when she'd discovered him standing there in the black hoodie, but she'd never been able to hide her emotions from him. He knew her too well. He'd seen her heart break in her eyes, love replaced with confusion and pain… raw, bleeding pain.

A part of him had died inside watching the transformation of her face, watching the warmth of her acceptance turn to accusation. He'd done that. It was all his own fault, and he couldn't even tell her why. He'd had to let her believe the worst. So he'd run. And he hadn't looked back. It hurt too much. But running didn't help, because every time he closed his eyes he saw her. The memory of her standing there trembling, the shock of betrayal written on her face was there waiting for him. It haunted him. Relentlessly.

He'd made her doubt that anything between them had been real. He'd made her believe that his love for her had all been a means to an end. A charade. That was the worst kind of blasphemy.

Oblivious to his internal anguish, Spencer gnawed on the end of her highlighter, lost to the world, wholly immersed in her studies. His heart clenched as he watched her. She was so beautiful. The sides of her hair were pinned back, but the rest hung in a thick brown curtain over her face. She tossed it over her shoulder absently.

He watched her, studying her face with the same intensity she devoted to the pages in front of her. For what was probably the thousandth time, it struck him just how close he'd come to losing her altogether. And he would have had no one to blame but himself.

"I can feel you staring back there," Spencer spoke suddenly, not even looking up from her books. "It's very distracting." He heard more than saw the smile in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Spencer turned around, hearing that something was off in his voice. Her smile slowly faded – that smile that she reserved just for him… open and honest, bright with implicit trust and love. He hadn't thought he'd ever see that smile again. And he knew he didn't deserve it regardless.

"Toby?" her voice was laced with concern. "Hey, what's wrong?" She closed her textbooks and pushed them aside, making a space for him beside her on the couch.

He took that as his invitation. But instead of sitting beside her, he knelt down in front of her so they were at eye level. Spencer shifted to face him, knees caging him in on either side of his waist. Her hands reached up to cradle his face. "What is it?" she asked again, her big brown eyes wide with concern.

Tears constricted his throat. "Please tell me you know…" he pleaded in a strained whisper.

"Know what?" Confusion wrinkled her forehead.

"That it was real… all of it. That _we_ were always real. I need to know that you know… that you _really_ know how much you mean to me." His voice was rough and raw with the strength of his emotion.

"Toby…" she whispered, stroking his cheeks softly with her thumbs. "Toby, believe me, if I had any doubts about that, I wouldn't be here. I know you love me."

"I do… Spencer, you are _everything_ to me. Without you…" he couldn't even complete the thought. He had nothing without her. Nothing. He reached up to cover her hand against his cheek. He kissed her palm, pressing his face into her hand. "Spencer, I'm so sorry… for everything. You have no idea." No matter how many times he said it, it would never be enough… not for what he put her through.

"Hey," she said, nudging his face up so she could see his eyes. "You've already apologized, Toby. Numerous times. You don't have to keep asking for my forgiveness when it's already yours. We have to let go of _that_ if we're going to move forward. We're okay, Toby. I promise."

Her eyes held his captive for several heartbeats before her head tilted forward, lips finding his softly. His eyes closed, savoring the way her lips felt against his, the way they molded together like they'd been made for each other. His fingertips traced lovingly over the line of her jaw, the graceful column of her neck. His lips broke free from hers to follow the same path his fingers had taken, ending at the hollow of her throat.

Spencer's hands wrapped around his back, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He didn't need much prompting as she pulled him from his knees to join her on the couch, reclining so that she lay against the cushions with him hovering above her. His lips found hers again, taking them fiercely. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her body so soft and pliant beneath him. It ignited a fire deep within him, raging through his veins. Her legs parted, wrapping around his thighs. The incredible heat of her body called to him, making a haze of any coherent thought.

When he pulled back, her eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed over with desire. In them, he could see his reflection, certain that she would find the same heated desire gazing back at her.

"I think… I've earned a study break, don't you?" she asked, her voice low and husky. She moaned loudly when his hips instinctively rolled against hers, seeking the heat he knew was waiting for him there.

"Most definitely," he all but growled, taking her mouth again.

Her hands tugged impatiently at his shirt, and he lifted up enough to oblige her, reaching for the hem of her shirt at the same time. Clothes were stripped away in a frenzied rush, tossed carelessly across the room. His hands roamed over the curves he could trace in his sleep. He'd memorized her body, all the places that made her gasp and moan, the silken feel of her skin under his touch. A groan was wrenched from deep in his chest at the feeling of her nails digging into his back. Her mouth was hot and open on his neck, his shoulders, any part of him she could reach in her position.

A shudder wracked the entire length of his body when her hips undulated sinuously against his, signaling wordlessly that she needed him just as badly as he needed her. Desperately, his hand reached between them. To his great relief, she was more than ready for him. A need so deep-seated he could barely contain it gripped him. Feverishly, he found her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, desperately as he joined their bodies together.

Searing, blissful heat enveloped him like a glove, driving every other thought from his mind. He was consumed. Utterly consumed by the girl in his arms. She was so soft beneath him, so warm, so perfect. And he loved her more than life itself. Needed her more than he'd ever needed anyone before. She was life and breath to him.

_I love you… I love you…_

He breathed it into her mouth over and over again as their bodies rocked together, connected as deeply as two individuals could possibly be. With all his might, he held off his own completion, needing her to get there first. The whimpers falling from her lips, her ragged breaths, told him she was close… so close. He changed the angle of his stroke and she gasped, arching helplessly into him.

Again and again he moved against her, inside her, until she cried out, her body clenching around him with her release. Only then did he let go, letting the heat of her response drive him over the edge. It was blinding, the tight clench of her body around him, the heat that consumed body and mind, the ecstasy that blazed through every cell of his being.

No matter how long he lived, no matter where life took him, he couldn't fathom a time when he wouldn't need her like this. And not just her body, but _her_. Everything that made her so incredibly precious to him. Everything that made her _Spencer_. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

Overcome with a surge of tenderness that nearly brought tears to his eyes, he kissed her, slowly, softly, their bodies still intimately joined after ecstasy had faded into quiet contentment. She sighed into his mouth, kissing him back with the same tenderness. Her eyes were bright and loving when their lips finally, reluctantly, parted.

"Best study break ever," she grinned, kissing his chin.

He chuckled, reveling in the warmth and life in her eyes. "I agree. You should study here more often."

Her eyes narrowed playfully. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. This kind of studying might not be very good for my grades."

"You never know. I'm sure we could work out a rewards system that's… beneficial… for both of us. And for your grades," he added as an afterthought, kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"You think so?" she giggled.

"Worth a shot, right?" He kissed the tip of her nose, grudgingly pushing himself off her. Although, he did allow himself a moment to enjoy the view… Spencer sprawled out on his couch, her hair fanned out over the cushion, skin still flushed from their encounter, a knowing smile lingering on her swollen lips.

"Are you done?" she asked impishly, though her cheeks blushed under his intense gaze.

The backs of his knuckles grazed the smooth, inward curve of her waist. "You're perfect."

Her eyes fell in embarrassment. "You're not so bad yourself. Now get up so I can finish studying," she nudged playfully at him, sitting up and placing one last, lingering kiss on his lips.

He gathered their discarded clothes from the floor and placed hers in her outstretched hands, a little sad to see her covered up again. Although, if she intended to get anything else done, that was for the best. Fully clothed again, she grinned up at him from across the room as she gathered her scattered textbooks and other paraphernalia, trying to regain her concentration.

Watching her, he felt a renewed faith that they were going to be okay. The choices he'd made would continue to have an impact on them for a long time, he knew that. They'd both changed because of everything they'd gone through. But the love they had was bigger than all of that. It was worth fighting for. And with every breath he took, he'd fight for her. There was nothing in the world that could ever change that.


End file.
